The Friday Society (30 page)

The blade was at her throat, and Michiko stood over her.

“You are bad.”

“No,” replied the Fog. “Just underappreciated.”

That. That I can understand, both the word and meaning,
thought Michiko.
But I don’t care.

“Don’t,” said Nellie from the entrance up the stairs. Michiko looked up at her. “She’s not worth it. Let’s go.”

For the first time since she’d started the fight, Michiko was aware of the bigger picture. The room was empty except for that creepy, bald doctor who stood in the corner. He was staring at Nellie in confusion. He called out, “Why are you still here?”

“I came for my friend,” she replied.

Friend
. Michiko knew that word.
Friend
.

She nodded. It wasn’t right to kill this woman. It hadn’t been a fair fight. And revenge, however sweet it might feel in the moment, soured over time.

She sheathed her sword, turned to Nellie, and nodded.

“Where everybody go?” she asked.

“Home,” said Nellie. “Like us.”

Home
.

Too complicated a word for her. Too many meanings, and not one truth.

“Michiko!” cried Nellie.

Cold steel at her throat, a blade digging into her skin, sharp pain.

“Give me the device.”

* * *

“
G
IVE ME THE
device,” the Fog called out to Nellie, holding a dagger to Michiko’s throat.

Nellie’s stomach fell. Her warning had come a moment too late. What should she do? She couldn’t just hand this woman the device. What if Cora hadn’t finished deactivating the bomb yet?

“If I give you the device, will you let her go?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Okay okay okay. You can do this, Nellie. You can do it. Think . . .
“On the count of three,” said Nellie, “you let her go and I’ll toss it in the air. You’ll have to catch it.”

The Fog nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

The device flew up into the air, and Michiko was pushed aside.

The Fog caught it. She looked at it. “What the hell is this? This isn’t the device. You little monster.” And she tossed the silver cylinder to the ground. It rolled for several feet then stopped, landing on its stomach, as it were, depressing the tiny button.

Michiko picked up her sword and walked carefully backward up the steps to join Nellie.

“Give me the device!” screamed the Fog.

Little bits and pieces of metal started to slide across the floor and collect themselves at the silver cylinder behind where Dr. Mantis was standing, staring in confusion at the Fog.

“No,” replied Nellie. “It’s over. You lose.”

The Fog let out a scream of pure, white-hot rage. She turned and grabbed Dr. Mantis, who kicked his feet from under him, struggling for his freedom. By doing so, he nudged the now fully reconstructed Chekhov, which slowly started to roll over . . .

. . . onto the large button on its side.

The Fog placed her knife to Dr. Mantis’s throat this time.

“I’ll kill him.”

“And I have mixed feelings about that.”
After all,
thought Nellie,
he did try to have both me and Cora killed. Then again, he did let me go this time . . .
This hero business was complicated.

“Gun,” whispered Michiko.

Nellie saw the glow.

“Move!” she yelled at the Fog. “Run!”

“No more distractions, little Magician’s assistant. The device or death!”

Cora, I hope you were successful.
“Fine, just take it, but run!” She tossed the device at the Fog. Who caught it deftly.

And . . .

Poof
.

Like that.

The Chekhov fired.

Dr. Mantis was gone.

And all that remained of the Fog . . . was mist.

51

After

W
HEN
L
ONDON DIDN’T
explode, Nellie felt quite confident that Cora had done her duty. But it wasn’t until the girl dragged herself to the entrance of the Tower Subway that she knew that Cora herself was truly okay.

“You’re alive!” exclaimed Nellie, squeezing her so tightly she could hear Cora gasp for air.

“Well, I was, but not for long if you keep squishing the life out of me,” she replied.

Nellie released her. And Michiko gave Cora a little bow, which Cora returned.

“What took you so long?” asked Nellie.

“Well, first I had to hide the flying pack, couldn’t very well lug it around with me. I’ll go get it tomorrow, take it home and give it a once over. It’s rather magnificent. Then, of course, I had to get rid of the defused bomb. So I took it apart, which took some time. Then I hired a cabdriver to take me here to the river, where I disposed of its remains. All except for these.” She’d removed one of the pockets from the tool belt. It was wrapped around something. “It’s the uranium. I think we should give it back to Raheem and see what he wants to do with it.”

“Good idea,” said Nellie.

“And this . . .” She revealed the Koh-i-Noor diamond, which she’d stored in another pocket.

“Ooh, it’s so beautiful!” said Nellie, taking it in her hand.

“Uh, we have to return it to the Tower, of course,” said Cora.

“Oh yes . . . of course.” Nellie passed the diamond back to Cora, who replaced it and the uranium on her tool belt.

“And you’re both in one piece, that’s good,” said Cora with a tired smile.

“Yes,” said Michiko.

“What happened down there? Where’s the Fog?”

“Well, there’s someone who isn’t in one piece. She sort of . . . evaporated.”

“You shot her with the Chekhov?”

“It was kind of all a big accident, really. But I have that gun of yours all right here—in pieces.” Nellie held up the bag she’d used to hold all the moving parts. “I can’t believe we did it, we really did it.” Nellie smiled a happy tired smile. She noticed that Cora didn’t follow suit, though. “Why aren’t you happy?”

“I am. I’m . . . happy we saved the city. But this whole thing still feels unresolved. What about Alice? What about the flower girl mystery? I promised her family that I’d solve it.”

Nellie wrapped an arm around Cora’s shoulders. “And we will. Now that we know the Fog had nothin’ to do with the flower girls we’ll use a different tactic. All right?”

Cora nodded.

“All right,” said Nellie. “But first, I think right now, we need a spot of tea.”

52

The Next Night

C
ORA STOOD ALONE,
clutching the basket of flowers she was carrying close to her. She knew the other girls were somewhere close by. Michiko on a rooftop surveying the scene. Nellie in a shadow somewhere, crouched, ready to pounce. She wasn’t on her own.

It just felt like it.

He might not even show up. He might have stopped, decided to take a night off. There were so many variables.

But she had to try.

She shivered. The air was crisp. She could see her breath in it.

To keep her blood flowing, Cora walked up and down the riverbank. A couple walked past, and staying in character, she offered them a flower. They ignored her. She remembered that feeling. That feeling of being ignored, like she didn’t exist, was worse than the lack of charity.

She saw him then. A shadowy figure, standing a few yards off. Her breath caught in her chest, and she reminded herself that she had defused a bomb and destroyed grotesque creatures. She could handle one cowardly murderer. And if she couldn’t, Nellie and Michiko could.

“Cora?” asked the figure.

Oh no. Even worse than a murderer . . .

“Cora, I thought that was you! What are you doing in that getup?”

“It’s none of your business, Mr. Harris,” she said as Andrew approached, his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Not Mr. Harris, not back to that . . .”

“Yes, back to that. Could you go away now?” A murderer wasn’t likely to show himself if she was standing speaking with a male companion.

“You’re not still angry with me, are you? We were drunk. We both said things we didn’t mean . . .”

“I beg your pardon; I meant every word.”

Andrew shook his head sadly. She knew it was “sadly” because he released a melancholy sigh and gave her a hangdog look. Cora was relieved that for the first time since she’d met him, her head and heart were in perfect agreement:
Ew
.

There was a bark. A single bark breaking the silence, and both Cora and Andrew looked up to where the side street sloped up to the Strand. A floppy-eared bloodhound was galumphing toward them. It stared up at the two of them and barked again.

“Hello,” said Cora in response. It seemed as if the dog was making an obvious greeting. She presented the back of her hand to his nose.

The bloodhound sniffed it for a moment. And then seemed completely uninterested in her. Instead, he barked at Andrew.

“Hello,” said Andrew, glancing at Cora as if somehow she understood what was going on and could explain it to him.

The dog jumped up on its hind legs and placed its front paws on Andrew’s shoulders.

“Down, boy, down . . . get off . . .” Andrew took a few steps back, but the dog walked with him. Cora smiled to herself; it looked a bit like they were dancing. “Get off . . .” Andrew tried to push the dog away. When he wouldn’t budge, Andrew started to flail his arms. “Get down
now
!” He struck the dog hard across the face, and the dog landed back on the ground. Cora couldn’t believe her eyes and felt her blood start to boil. Before she could do anything, however, the dog started to growl. Then he jumped on Andrew again. The momentum this time sent Andrew flying onto his back.

“Stop. Police!” shouted another familiar voice.

“Officer Murphy?” said Cora as the young officer ran past to the dog, who was standing on top of Andrew, baring its teeth. Andrew stopped struggling and looked like he was trying to stay very still.

Officer Murphy turned and did a double take when he realized who’d called out to him. “Miss Bell, is that you?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing dressed like that?”

“Well,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “I’m doing your job, quite frankly . . .”

“You weren’t making yourself bait, were you? That’s very dangerous.”

“I’m used to danger.”
You have no idea how used to danger.

“Well, he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“That mutt? No, he does seem awfully fond of Andrew, though.”

“What? No, not the dog. Him.” He pointed at Andrew.

“Him?”

“Oh, how marvelous!” Nellie materialized from out of the shadows, clearly not able to keep herself hidden with Officer Murphy about. Cora was glad to see that Nellie, with her mask removed and long cape covering her person, looked relatively normal and not too hero-like. “The dog works!”

Even in the dark, it was possible to see him blush. “Oh, Nellie! It’s so nice to see you. Yes, isn’t it grand! I did what you suggested. Talked to that girl from the other night. She gave me her shawl, and we’ve been using it to track him down ever since. And now look: We caught him!”

“What are you talking about?” asked Cora, because what she thought they were talking about couldn’t possibly be what they were talking about.

There was a fierce bark then, followed by a whimper.

“Cabal!” cried Officer Murphy, running over to the bloodhound. Cora looked and gasped. The dog was lying on the ground, a deep puncture wound in its shoulder. And Andrew . . .

He was running fast. Very fast. Where he thought he could go, Cora had no idea. He’d been identified. They’d catch him eventually.

Or they’d just catch him right now.

A primal scream, a flash of silver in the night.

Michiko
.

There wasn’t even a scuffle. She landed on top of him, knocked him to the ground, and stood over him, sword to his throat.

“Who the hell was that?” said Officer Murphy, his mouth wide open. Then, immediately: “Oh, excuse the language. I’m so sorry.”

Nellie shook her head. “It’s okay. How’s Cabal?”

“I think he’ll be fine . . .”

The sounds of conversation faded behind her as Cora approached Andrew slowly. She felt like she was in a dream, almost floating in his direction. She came up alongside Michiko and stared down at him. He was lying flat on his back, his hands folded over his stomach, as if he was lying out on a lawn in the sun on a lazy Saturday afternoon and not on the cold ground with a blade at his throat.

“You’re a horrible person,” said Cora.

He looked at her and sighed. “Cora, you’ll never understand.”

“Damn right, I won’t.”

“We all have two sides to us. If we don’t let the dark side vent, it risks taking over the whole person.”

“Bullshit. That’s just . . . bullshit.”

“Follow the train of logic, Cora.”

“It’s a theoretical exercise. You read it in a work of fiction. And worse, you’re so stupid that you drew totally the wrong conclusion. Don’t you even understand that in letting it all out, Mr. Hyde wound up consuming Dr. Jekyll?”

Andrew just shook his head at her, like she was the one who was stupid.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t stop talking. She just had to convince him, prove to him, through logic, how wrong he was. Or maybe, somehow he’d prove to her that it all made sense. But something, anything, had to give. “Besides, even if it were true”—her voice was rising in pitch—“which it isn’t, you can’t do what you did. You can’t kill people. It’s wrong. It’s absolutely wrong.”

“People? You really see those girls as people? You can’t, Cora. Not really. They don’t have the same brain capacity. If they did, they wouldn’t be flower girls.”

“No, that’s . . . God, you’re disgusting, you’re just . . .” There was an arm across her chest, a hand squeezing her shoulder tight.

“Bad man,” said Michiko.

Cora looked at her.

That was it. There was no reasoning with him. He was just bad. “Yes,” she said, feeling herself deflate. “Bad man.”

“Thank you, masked vigilante, I think I’ll take over now,” said Officer Murphy, approaching from behind.

The three girls stood in the shadows to watch as Andrew was handcuffed and walked to the police wagon. Officer Murphy took the credit for the arrest, and none of them minded.

“I hope Cabal will be okay,” said Nellie.

“I’m sure he will be,” Cora replied.

The wagon pulled away, and the girls walked over to a bench and sat staring out at the river.

“Well,” said Nellie after a quiet moment, “that’s the end of that.”

Cora nodded.

Then she did something she hadn’t done in . . . well, she couldn’t remember when. She burst into tears.

Nellie was amazed. She’d never seen her friend cry before.

Cora was amazed. She never cried.

Michiko thought it all made perfect sense.

“I’m so sorry about Andrew,” Nellie said. “And after all the teasin’—oh, he was a right bastard, that one.”

Cora shook her head. “It’s not that.”

Nellie thought for a moment. “Is it because of all the danger from last night? Just relief that it’s all over?”

Cora shook her head and sobbed harder.

“Well, I’m stumped. Any idea?” She looked at Michiko.

Michiko thought for a moment. “It is over.”

“Yes, as I said,” said Nellie.

Michiko shook her head. “No.” She placed a hand on Cora’s arm. Cora looked up at her. “It is over.”

Cora nodded, and in an act that no one could have anticipated, she leaned her head on Michiko’s shoulder.

“It’s over. And I don’t want it to be. I want it to be last night, when we were solving the mystery. Saving the city. Being in charge of not only our destiny, but the destiny of others. Fixing things. Making a difference. I want to do it again. And I want to do it with you two.” She gulped in air and tried to calm herself.

“A team,” said Nellie quietly.

“What was that?” asked Cora.

“Raheem called us a team.”

“We make a great team.”

“Team,” said Michiko. “I’m not samurai.”

It seemed a bit of a tangent, but the other girls tried to understand what she meant.

“I am not samurai. I am Michiko. I am part of team.”

Cora sat upright and wiped the tears from her face with her hands. “Do you mean it?” she asked, looking at both of them. “Do you want to keep doing this?”

Both girls nodded.

“Brilliant!” Cora was up on her feet in an instant and started talking. “Because I actually was thinking about it when I got in last night, and I had some great ideas. I was thinking we should use the Fog’s old lab as our secret hideout, only, of course, I’d rig it out to suit our purposes. And I also thought we should place an advertisement, maybe, something that lets people know we exist, since it’s unlikely they’ll know we saved them and everything. I also think we need a name. Something impressive, something that people will remember . . .”

She stopped talking when she noticed both Nellie and Michiko laughing at her.

“What?”

“You’re brilliant, you are,” said Nellie, rising.

“Don’t you think a name is a good idea?”

Nellie nodded and then grabbed her into a big bear hug. Cora patted her back. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, but that was okay.

“So, names?” she said when Nellie pulled away.

Nellie thought, then brightly: “The Dazzling Trio?”

“No.”

Nellie thought for another moment and glanced at Michiko, who gave her a look that said,
“I can barely make complete sentences, let alone be clever with this language of yours and come up with a cool-sounding name.
”

“Something with ‘society’ in it,” Nellie said suddenly with a smile.

“Society?”

“Yeah, like all those silly societies the men have. Kind of like what the Fog suggested. No boys allowed. Too bad, really, that Society of Heroes is taken. It’d be perfect.”

Cora nodded. “That’s a good idea . . .”

“The Dazzling Society?”

“No.”